Hello out there! This is Illyria Lives, signing in. So, originally this was going to be a one-shot, but I rambled enough to fill up 25 pages (symbolic. I didn't even notice before now). SO! Now it's a multi-chapter fic. SWEET HYPOCRISY THIS TOOK A LOT OUT OF ME. I'm tired. I'm going to update this once a day, until christmas. So... six chapters. AND IT'S HALF AS LONG AS SECRET AGENTS WANTED SO FAR. That's my way of saying DANG, THIS IS ONE FAT FICLET!

... why can't I be normal? I don't even know. Whatever. I'm done. Just read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Club Penguin, Rookie, G, or Jetpack Guy. I do, however, own Jezzie and Memory. So... HANDS OFF! Geez, I'm tired. Sorry for all the caps button pressing.

December 23. Club Penguin was misted by frost, and blanketed by the average snowfall. Cheery Christmas lights twinkled and glowed along houses and stores. Islanders walked down the cold streets decked in wintertime wardrobes, singing merrily. The Town is getting ready for the annual Christmas party, to take place on Christmas Eve, notorious for its night-long dances, where friends would meet and exchange gifts. Children could have their pictures taken with a jolly Islander dressed as Santa, and older Islanders could drink egg nog and find boyfriends and girlfriends beneath the twenty-two separate sprigs of mistletoe. The worst kept secret was that all PSA agents attended this party, the only time of the year that they could all congregate outside of the HQ.

It was this afternoon before this party that you could find Jezebel Swan, PSA agent in the Gift Shop with her squad's rookie, Rookie.

"How about this?" Jezzie held up a horribly cheery Christmas sweater for Rookie to look at. The short boy didn't even glance away from his PSA handbook before answering in a sharp negative. Jezzie threw the sweater at him, and he grappled with it for a few muffled moments before dropping off of his seat and wriggling around on the ground.

His feathery brown head poked out of one of the sleeves. "What was that for?"

"For not helping me make a decision!" she shouted, and wrestled another sweater from the rack to wave in his direction. "Is it this one?"

"Nope." He flinched, and she groaned, resting her head in her hand. This was an impossible task.

"I think that you're just… putting a little too much thought into it." Rookie said helpfully from his spot on the floor. "When you look at a gift for someone, you're supposed to feel it… like, in your large intestine or something."

Jezzie gave him a Scrooge of a look.

He managed to twist out of his knitted prison, and she collapsed beside him. "According to the PSA handbook, I should know my partner inside and out, and yet I can't even pick out a simple gift!" she threw her arms in the arm and despaired.

Rookie scratched the back of his head, a sure sign that he was about to beg for something. "So, speaking of gifts…"

"I'm not telling you what I got you." Jezzie sighed, and stood. Rookie followed suit quickly.

"Aw, come on, give me another hint." He begged as they left the Gift Shop. "Pretty pretty please!"

"No."

"Why not?" he whined and Jezzie shot a look over her shoulder that shut him up. They were now passing the Coffee Shop, where they saw a tall and gangly blonde man in a blue team jersey talking up the barista, who, after a few moments of speech, slapped him and ordered him onto the street.

PSA Agent Memory, once out the front door, quickly flagged them down. "Jezzie! Hey, Jezzie! Wait up!"

"As much as I love your disdain for feminism, I really don't have the time right now. I'm busy." She said dryly, and he waved it away, walking quickly to keep up with her.

"Right, busy. This will just take a second." He pulled out a yellow bundle of measuring tape and unraveled it. "I just need to know your height."

Jezzie stopped walking, as did Rookie. She gave her PSA partner a strange look. "My…" she started to repeat, before massaging her temples. "You know, I don't want to know. Just get it over with."

Memory smiled happily and held the tape up to Jezzie's blonde head, letting the rest fall to the ground. "Rookie, if you would be so kind." Memory nodded to the fallen tape, and the young boy ducked down to read Jezzie's height.

"Five foot… seven." He said, and Memory visibly deflated.

"Too tall." he muttered and rerolled the tape, tucking it safely away in his pocket. "Well, that is one down…" he looked over his shoulder, at the crowd of women emerging from the pizza parlor. "About a million to go." He shook his head and muttered to himself in French. He smiled helplessly at Jezzie as he followed them to the Lighthouse.

"So… you're not going to ask what I am doing?"

"Nope." Jezzie said. "Busy, remember?"

"Well, too bad, because you should know why I am in such a hurry to learn the height of every woman on the Island…"

It was almost exactly four years ago. The Christmas party was in full swing. A younger Memory was all decked out in a Santa costume, listening to his iPod through one earbud, while the other hung to his waist. He had a mug full of egg nog in one hand, and was singing the 12 Days of Christmas at the top of his lungs. He didn't get past seven though, before a tiny pixie of a girl in a glowing Christmas tree costume walked past him. His blue eyes were riveted on her for the rest of the party, as she danced beside her friends; a beautiful fairy slipping elegantly along the strands of music… it took him three hours and four more mugs of egg nog before he had the courage to approach her. He tapped her shoulder and had an introduction ready on his tongue before someone jostled him, and he spilled his drink down her costume.

"Please, excuse me, I am so sorry…" he stuttered, his French accent growing more pronounced as his face flushed almost as red as his suit. The girl only giggled and shook her head, shining brown eyes alighting on the ceiling above them. It took the twitter patted young man a few moments before getting the hint, looking up to see a sprig of mistletoe bound by a red ribbon taped to the ceiling.

He gulped and look back down, only to close his eyes as her lips met his.

Fireworks ignited in his brain, and his ears were deafened by a Hallelujah chorus singing. Electricity carried through his veins, travelled across his eyes, and took a hold of his heart in an iron grip. Evergreen pine-covered arms were wrapped around his shoulders, and he could feel the heat from strings of light as he nervously put his arms around her.

He opened his eyes a fraction of a second after her lips left his mouth, and she was gone.

He was left standing there beneath the mistletoe with an empty mug and a glowing heart. Deep down, Memory knew that it was love.

"… I never knew her name." Memory ended his story wistfully, eyes affixed to the empty horizon, lost in his memories. Rookie and Jezzie shared a look.

At the same time, they burst into laughter.

Memory looked back and forth between them with a confused look on his face. "I do not get what is so funny." He stated simply.

"You actually sounded human there for a second." Jezzie giggled. "To think that all this time you had a true love." he frowned as she fluttered her eyelashes and pouted. Rookie, by this point in the conversation, was rolling on the ground in stitches.

"You are just jealous." Memory sniffed, obviously hurt. "When I finally find her, I will propose marriage and leave you in the dust." He turned his back on her and walked stiffly back towards the Coffee Shop.

"Aw, come on." Jezzie grabbed his arm and held him in place. "You just can't pour that much emotional depth into a two-minute story like that and not expect anyone in earshot to laugh at you."

Memory sighed and allowed her to lead him to the Lighthouse. "Now, I need your help." She told him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"The great Jezebel Swan asking for my help? I am shocked." He smiled at her frustrated expression. "I can only imagine what is giving you such frustration… does it have anything to do with a certain jetpack enthusiast?"

Jezzie growled something impolite in his general direction while Rookie shrank away in fear. Memory chuckled. "You cannot find him a gift?"

"It's an impossible task!" Jezzie said, "Nothing fits! It's like potential Christmas presents are scared of him!"

"Have you asked him what he wants?" Memory asked, completely sincere for the first time in three months.

Jezzie stared. "Asked him what he wants?" she snorted. "Like it could be that simple. I asked him, and you know what he said?"

"I never understood why you Americans ask such stupid questions."

"He said that he doesn't want anything! The nerve! He's being difficult on purpose!" Jezzie released her grip on Memory to wave her arms around. He gave her an odd look.

"Or he does not want anything. Did you think of that?"

Jezzie glared. Memory retreated a few beats.

"Of course you thought of that! You are such a bright, beautiful woman that thought of everything!" he said quickly, and she softened a bit, sighing and rubbing her forehead.

"I can't just get him nothing, Memory. He's my partner, and probably my best friend. It's the principle of the thing."

"You will think of something." Memory assured her, and slipped his arm through hers. "So, where are we going?"

"The Lighthouse. They just got in a new shipment of—"

She was cut off as Rookie's cell phone bleated with a techno rendition of Deck the Halls. He coughed modestly and took it from his pants pocket.

"Hello?" he whispered. He blushed and turned his back on Jezzie and Memory, now watching him intently. "Yes, Mom, I'm still out. Yes, I'm with Jezzie. No, no where near that French guy…" Memory frowned and glared. Rookie blushed and looked guiltily at the frost-covered ground. "I'm sorry Mom. I know that it's wrong to lie. I'll be home in a few minutes. Okay, I'll pick up some more gelt. Tell Bubbe not to worry." He looked quickly at Memory before turning completely around and muttering into his phone "I love you too… I said I love you too." He sighed and said as loudly as he dared "I love you too Mom. I've gotta go. Bye." He flipped his phone shut and coughed modestly into his fist. "So…" he drew out the word as long as he dared, ready for the onslaught of baby taunts that he was so used to from The Academy.

But instead, Jezzie perked up "You're Jewish?"

Rookie scuffed his feet. "Um… yeah?"

"That's cool." She said, and waved him off. "Go get home, eat some potato cakes." She frowned at her own words. "That's not exactly politically correct, is it?"

Rookie shook his head. "It's okay. I've heard a lot worse. Anyway… hope you find something for Jetpack." He smiled hopefully, and she smiled back. He said his goodbyes to Memory and took off to the store to get some more chocolate coins for his family.

Hooray for political incorrectness! And Memory's weird obsession over a girl he's never really met. Gosh, I'm REALLY tired. See y'all tomorrow for another chapter.